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# DEFENDING THE AGED

It wouldn't be fair for me to attack old folk without letting them have their say. So in the spirit of equity and fair play, Joyce Sharples defends her age bracket from my entirely justified savagery. Over to you, Joyce!

> I hear bell bottoms are coming back. Our Ida's bought some, and at her age with those hips, it'll end in tears, I shouldn't wonder. Then there's Jack, he hasn't come out of the hospital since he got whipped by a loon pant, I swear, there should be a law against exotic pants, really I do. It only ever ends in tears, and it'll be me with the Kleenex, I can promise you without fear of eternal damnation. Have you seen the state of that.... she must put her make-up on with a trowel, I swear. Eye liner? Ocean liner, more like. If God had meant us to use make-up, he would have made us all uglier. And she's hardly old enough to be sweeping chimneys, it shouldn't be allowed. Did you hear about the local tom cat? Blew up it did, all over my begonias. Eating dog food, it was, and dogs are much bigger than cats, you see, so it just blew up. Our Dennis says cat gut never comes off begonias, but they've got a Stain Devil for nearly anything, these days. I don't like Stain Devils, I don't think Satanic imagery has any place in the domain of homecare. Unless the product actually is satanic. It just cheapens the name of the Beast, doesn't it? Speaking of which, have you seen Bob recently? He's only sold his soul, I mean to say, he may have eternal youth but who's going to get the scale off his toilet pardon my french when Edna's gone to her grave? It'll be me around there with the Toilet Duck and Brillo Pads, I can guarantee you that. Still, you needn't worry about me, I'll be dead soon, with old Ted up there in heaven, if he went to heaven, which I doubt, after putting Campari in the raspberry jelly at Timmy's party. Well I'm not putting a good word in, he can bloody well stay down there. I'm having the girls around again tonight, for a cup of tea. Well, that Annie always leaves smelling of Sherry, and we don't see any of it and it's me that has to sponge down the sofa where she was sitting. Jay-Cloths are getting bigger again, I see. When will it end? We'll be using Jay-Cloths as blankets, if someone doesn't end this madness right now. There'll be tears before bedtime, but I suppose the Jay-Cloths will soak that up, but you can bet I'll be there with the Kleenex just in case. You can't be too careful with tears, they can eat through steel, you know. That's why I always keep some Handy Andies close by.

Mrs Sharples appears fortnightly in her local Spar, where she can be heard muttering to the Hob-Nobs.